


Butternut Squash

by DizzyRedhead



Series: Pulling Against the Stream [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Farmer's Market AU, M/M, Pre-Slash, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-17 01:24:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8125132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DizzyRedhead/pseuds/DizzyRedhead
Summary: Working his uncle's produce stand at the farmer's market, Will encounters a stupidly good-looking guy





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [akadiene](https://archiveofourown.org/users/akadiene/gifts).



> I lost a bet on Tumblr about what color Kent's eyes would be in Thursday's update, so I owe the winners 500 words of NurseyDex. This is the first one. I should no better than to make bets, but I'm having fun writing them, so it was totally worth it.
> 
> ETA: I don't know why AO3 reverted to my placeholder text instead of the text of the story, but it should be readable now? Sorry, folks.

“How much for the butternut squash?”

“Three dollars,” Will says. He’s trying not to snap, but it’s been a long day full of people asking for prices that are  _ right on the goddamn sign in front of the fucking fruit or vegetable they’re asking about _ and his patience evaporated about twenty “customers” ago (Will refuses to count the browsers who don’t buy anything as actual customers, no matter what his uncle says).

He looks up, prepared to send whoever it is off with a death glare if they don’t have cash in hand and instantly regrets all of his life choices. The guy standing in front of him is model-gorgeous, warm tawny skin and gray-green eyes. His gray beanie doesn’t quite cover dark curly hair, and even though he’s wearing one of those stupid preppy Land’s End vests and holding a coffee cup that probably contains some kind of over-sugared abomination, Will kind of wants to climb him like a tree. 

“Okay,” the guy says. His voice is just as unfairly attractive as the rest of him, a rich, deep baritone that resonates in Will’s bones. “That just seems really low, so I thought maybe the sign was for the potatoes.”

“Nope,” Will says shortly. He’s already ruined any (nonexistent) chance he might have had with this guy. Best to keep this interaction as quick and painless as possible. 

Hot Guy doesn’t seem to be on the same wavelength, because he’s smiling. At Will. What. The. Fuck. “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before. I’m Derek.”

“Will.” He shakes the proffered hand automatically. “I’m, uh, usually working on the farm, but they needed extra help for the market, so…” he gestures to the booth full of produce.

“Chill,” Hot Guy--Derek says. “I just moved up here a month ago, so I’m still getting to know all of the faces, but this market is great.”

Will nods, not sure what else he can say. The market is great; between the produce from Uncle Shawn’s farm and the catch from Uncle Kevin’s boat, it’s a good source of family income. “You should come back next week. We’ll have lobster.”

He cringes internally almost as soon as the words come out of his mouth, but Derek is just nodding like it’s a perfectly reasonable response. “Sounds great. In the meantime, I’ll take one of those squash. Gonna make some soup.”

Will nods again, feeling uncomfortably like a bobble-head but not knowing how to stop. He reaches down to grab a bag, trying not to watch Derek’s hands as the other man selects a squash, long artistic fingers stroking over the pale orange rinds. Derek takes the bag and hands over a five, so at least making change gives him something to do with his hands and his eyes. 

_ Jesus _ . Will fumbles with the money box.  _ I have got to get laid if just talking to a hot guy gets me this fucked up _ .

“Two dollars,” Will says shortly, handing the money back. Derek’s fingers brush over Will’s for a lingering minute as he takes the money. 

Will stands there, feeling like an idiot, as Derek tucks the two singles back into his wallet. Instead of walking away with his squash, though, he stands there.

“Can I get you anything else?” Will asks, trying (and probably failing) to sound pleasant.

Derek grins, dimples appearing in his cheeks. “How about your number?”

**Author's Note:**

> If you like idiot hockey boys and/or pictures of Chris Evans, you'll probably enjoy [my Tumblr](http://dizzy-redhead.tumblr.com)


End file.
